May 24, 1990 - Love and Death on the Jersey ShoreC14 The Suffolk Times • May 24, 1990
Love and Death on the Jersey Shore
By Paul Stoutenburah
As you may remember, we had trav-
eled to the Jersey Cape, in the general
area of Cape May on the Delaware Bay,
to see the annual migration of shore
birds seeding on the eggs of the horse-
shoe crabs that invade the beaches of the
upper bay this time of the year.
During the day we had seen the huge
masses of shore birds that blanketed the
beach in their frenzy of feeding on the
horseshoe crab eggs from the previous
day. Now we are going to travel at
night in hopes of seeing the spectacle of
crabs on the beach that are triggered by
the high tide of the full moon.
The day had gradually become more
and more overcast and when we arrived
at the beach, just about time for sunset,
it was a stormy scene that spread out
before us. As a matter of fact, to the
west right down on the horizon of
Delaware Bay off Reeds Beach the sky
opened its eye to let us see a glimpse of
a greyish -pink glow where the sun
would have set. A few moments later
we were left alone with a strong
southwest wind to roll a restless sea at
our feet.
The laughing gulls at this part of the
beach were still feeding at the rising wa-
ter's edge. The turbulent surf no doubt
had brought many loose horseshoe crab
eggs in with it. We knew the beach had
been used, for there was a stench in the
air. Dead horseshoe crabs were every-
where and as far as the eye could see
their upturned hulks littered the beach.
What had caused the carnage? We had
heard of the great invasion of crabs dur-
Focus on
Nature
ing the early part of May along this
coast, but no one had told us that we
would see all these dead horseshoe
crabs.
Waiting It Out
The tide was still building as my wet
sneakers told of an unexpected wave
reaching for new heights. But where
were the live crabs that were supposed
to be coming out of the water to lay
their eggs? We had planned our trip to
this part of Cape May with the hopes of
seeing this great natural phenomenon.
We decided to wait it out. The raw
breeze by now had started to sneak in
around our bodies, making us button
up. Even with the grim outlook we de-
termined not to give in.
Then I saw what seemed to be a fish
in the low surf. Then another black
shape and then a pointed tail. It had to
be the horseshoe crabs still a bit off
shore. The light was fading now. Even
the noisy gulls that were in a frenzy of
feeding had left to roost and we were
alone in a graveyard of crab carcasses.
Now more shapes appeared. We could
see clusters of live horseshoe crabs. In
the low, rolling waves they were being
tumbled and rolled over and over.
So this is what caused the death toll
we saw all along the beach. Evidently,
in the females' pursuit to deposit their
eggs and the males' mad pursuit of the
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HORSESHOE CRABS — During the spring tides of early May the
horseshoe crabs come ashore to lay their eggs. The largest con-
centration that runs over 150,000 crabs to a mile can be seen on the
shores of Delaware Bay, off New Jersey's southern Cape.
females, many became entangled in the
rough surf and ended up stranded ashore.
Then as the tide went out they were left
high and dry to perish. Some were able
to right themselves with their long
pointed tails, others buried themselves
and waited for the tide, and then there
were those who would be picked clean
by the gulls.
Since Time Began
Here we were seeing what has taken
place for millions of years: the annual
arrival for the female horseshoe crab
with one, two, three or even more
smaller males clinging to her to be on
hand to fertilize the eggs as she deposits
up to 50,000 of them below the sand.
We tried to take a count, but it was im-
possible. The whole beach was now
alive with bodies pushing themselves
like some prehistoric creatures destined
to push on for the urgent task at hand.
Many would be lost in the boiling wa-
ters and stranded high and dry, but this
was the price they would pay to make
sure their species would continue. And
it works, for their being there was
proof.
We walked in the dark, our flashlight
revealing new masses and tangles of
crabs. As we walked back to the camper
we smiled at the thought that such a
lowly creature had survived so well
through all the ages. Man's puny
homes that merely cling to the edge of
the beach will someday be gone with
the invading sea, but the horseshoe
crabs hopefully will never stop their
annual visit to these shores. Come May
and a full moon, out of the depths of
the sea they'll plod slowly but
deliberately on their mission to lay their
eggs in the sands of Delaware Bay. Here
on the Jersey and Delaware sides of the
bay there are up to 150,000 crabs per
mile at peak densities. Nowhere else on
the East Coast are they found in such
quantities.
Tomorrow the gulls and shorebirds
will return to harvest some of the eggs
laid during the night. Yet many eggs
will survive and slowly, as the waters
warm and the sun heats up the sandy
beaches, the young will develop. I've
seen their near - transparent cells with the
tiny horseshoe crabs curled up inside
awaiting the next full moon and the
high spring tide it brings. Then, fully
developed, they'll work themselves out
of their transparent cocoon and into the
flood waters of the sea where once again
they'll be preyed upon, this time by dif-
ferent birds and even fish and crabs.
Out of the billions of eggs that were
laid on the sandy beaches only a fraction
will reach maturity, and yet these will
have implanted in their genes the direc-
tion and timing to meet and mate on
these very shores in the years to come. I
marvel at the wonder of it all.
-I
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